


To the other side of the open door (that’s where you’ll find me)

by jstrattford



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, fake marriage agreement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstrattford/pseuds/jstrattford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the fake marriage agreement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the other side of the open door (that’s where you’ll find me)

**Author's Note:**

> I suck. I genuinely suck. I'm so sorry for not posting anything for months and just abandoning this whole account, but I'll try to have something new later this week, but yeah. This is so old and can also be found [here](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/post/120217122982/pairing-niallharry-wc18k-theres-a-sharp).

There’s a sharp pounding pain in Harry’s head when he closes his eyes, only opening them quickly when he hears a loud sigh come out of Niall, tired and irritated.

“This is really  _stupid_ ,” Niall grumbles harshly. He leans his head against the window, glancing sidelong at Harry, refusing to break eye contact when he meets the confusion tangled in Harry’s eyes.

“Isn’t it?” Niall presses, as if seeking the confirmation that he hasn’t gone mad, impatiently tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

“What is?” Harry nods slowly, like he’s having trouble comprehending the statement and reason behind Niall’s tense body posture. It really wasn’t all  _that_  bad, he reasons, doing his best to not look offended.

The corner of Niall’s lips loosen slightly as Harry watches Niall fiddle with the invitation in his hand, swirling it in a disinterested manner.

“The font or the ‘you’re cordially invited’ part?” Harry adds then when it doesn’t look like Niall’s going to speak, voice steady despite his reddening cheeks.

The way Niall rolls his eyes says volumes about his opinion on the subject, but he still gives Harry the answer though.

“Neither,” Niall breathes out, tilting his head as he lulls at the thought. “Well those  _too_ , but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Harry keeps quiet then, watching the way Niall tangles a hand in his hair, untucking his arm from where it’s been folded tightly against his chest, a faint smile on his face this time when he looks back at Harry.

“I mean this,” Niall signals the invitations with his tired eyes, red with fatigue. “It’s stupid that we’ve let it get this far,” he says, sounding stressed.

Harry frowns. “It’s not  _that_  far,” he wants to vocalize, but something inside him stops him before he has the chance. He put on a faux grin instead, choking down the lump tying his throat before he can say, “Yeah. I guess it is,” all forced and monotonous.

“I had no idea they’d think it was this serious,” Niall goes on, missing the way Harry’s lips purse together in a tight line. “Fuck, it’s not like we gave them a reason to think it was,” he says, and he sounds really upset that Harry almost hates that he’s allowed things to get this out of control.

“Yeah,” Harry responds in that brilliant manner of his, very mechanically. “We didn’t,” he swallows thickly. He doesn’t bother saying that he remembers it very well, and that hearing Niall call him his “light, world, and knight in shinning armor,” was the highlight of his year, even when if it was so apparent that Niall was just looking to get a good laugh out of the situation, which turned a lot less amusing soon after.

But, still. That wasn’t the issue they were dealing with, Harry thinks, choosing to ignore the utter annoyance in Niall’s eyes because it makes his stomach spin more than he wants to let on.

Niall’s face has softened a bit though, his eyes less accusatory and more or less laced with worry, which Harry’s not quite sure he likes seeing any more than the annoyance.

“What am I supposed to do? Marry you but live in a separate house?” Niall mutters, exhausted, and the words almost jumbled together make Harry’s breath hitch.

“Happy wishes to us, right?” Niall grumbles, the sarcasm in his tone bleeding its way to Harry’s ears.

“It could be worse,” Harry says through a cough, his words catching Niall’s attention immediately.

“How?” Niall frowns, tone losing some of its hostility, still looking as lovely as ever, Harry thinks, frowning when he realizes that he’s taken too long to answer because Niall’s quirked confused brow is directed at him.

Oh,  _right_. He’s got to speak now.

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, letting the expectancy in Niall’s eyes be his encouragement to be completely honest. “It just seemed like the right thing to say,” he laughs off, pleased to see the muscles on Niall’s face loosen into a faint smile this time.

“It was, but the followup wasn’t.” Niall shakes his head, laughing quietly, as Harry traces follows the crinkles near Niall eyes with his own.

“Oh, well. You know me,” Harry jokes, biting his lip because he’s fairly certain he’ll blurt out the first thing on his mind if he keeps speaking when Niall’s looking at him with that much intensity. With that much attention too.

“I do, don’t I?” Niall smiles cheekily at Harry, causing Harry to noisily clear his throat. 

Him having a “silly” crush on someone like Niall wasn’t surprising. That much Harry could admit because there had always been a part of Harry that had been drawn to the good-naturedly and friendly behavior that seemed so distinctly Niall. It was much  _expected_  when looking at it that way, actually. But, what was surprising was just how far Harry let it go, figuring that he’d be able to control it but cursing every part of his being now, because that flawed mentality was the reason he was in another great mess. One that if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get out of, if it was up to him at least. But Niall…well, Harry’s pretty sure that his weary eyes and worn-out body language were clear enough answers.

“So…” Niall continues after a small moment, casually, like Harry’s heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of his chest. Niall dangles the piece of paper awkwardly between his two fingers, tilting a brow before adding, “…this is alright?”

And even if it most likely shouldn’t be, if it’s all kind of wrongs, Harry responds with a smile, finding it impossible to not look at Niall with an adoring expression on his face when Niall’s got a sweet smile gracing his.

“It’s fine.”

*

The thing is it was never meant to be more than a joke. A practical one on their parents and the rest of their family members, but what was even more surprising was just how much it seemed to please them, especially Harry’s family – Anne more specifically.

She was the one who responded the most positively with the whole ordeal – that much has always been very clear to both Harry and Niall. Why, Harry’s not exactly sure, but he figures that it’s nice to have her approval, even if it was probably her reaction that chained them to their situation.

Not that Harry necessarily minded that. He’ll admit that much.

However, it doesn’t make it any less strange, he thinks, surprised to see her in her chair when they walk in the house, visibly smiling at them with a large amount of glee resonating of her face.

“Hello, Mrs. Cox,” Niall greets Anne with a bright smile, staying close to Harry’s side.

“Call me Anne, dear,” she smiles, eyes falling on the way Harry’s holding Niall’s sleeve tightly as if… _wait?_   _How did that get there?_  Harry frowns, letting go of the cotton of Niall’s t-shirt quickly.

And it could just be that Anne’s being coy but she just smiles at Harry, looking at him as if she knows something that Harry doesn’t, which in fact, she does.

She just doesn’t say anything that would indicate she does, though, secretively grinning at Harry every time she catches him looking at Niall, reminding Harry of exactly it was why he was thankful to have her discretion.

*

It’s late into the night when Harry’s sitting across from Niall, invitations in his hands once again, but unlike earlier in the day, this time the hostility in Niall’s eyes is vanished – no trace of it left in his wondrous eyes.

“We’re taking this far, aren’t we?” Niall asks quietly, and there it is. So openly out there and laid bare for both of them to consider, with Harry’s heart beating as quickly as the small breath he take in his surprise at Niall’s bluntness. Still keeping his face bright, regardless.

“I think…” Harry says, stopping to take a breath, hoping his voice will stay steady when he says, “probably,” agreeing and letting his voice go low.

And for some reason this makes Niall look incredibly sad, which is a terrible thing to watch because his face does some droopy thing that makes Harry feel like he’s just let him down in one quick movement.

“Y - ”

“It’s not too late to call everything off, though,” Harry adds quickly, rushing to get the words out before Niall can say something else.

Niall’s brows tilt in surprise, mouthing a “really?” like he’s not quite sure he’s heard correctly.

Harry nods. “Any time you’re ready,” he forces a smile.

“Any time I’m ready…” Niall trails off, whole face blank like he’s lost in his thoughts. There’s a silence then, Harry feeling a little dumbfounded but listening with much attention, sitting completely still for far too long that it startles him when Niall’s head moves in his direction.

Niall’s eyes look over at Harry from across the table, smiling away Harry’s concerned expression.

“Call it fate, call it destiny, I think we’re stuck with each other,” Niall says in that frustratingly genuine way of his, grinning, and nudges Harry with the end of his shoe gently. Harry’s face calms the moment it does, face splitting widely as he returns the grin freely.

“Really?” Harry says, trying hard not to sound too pleased but he can’t help it. He always does that when he gets excited, dimples appearing on both his cheeks.

Niall nods. “So Harry Styles…” Niall stops, coughing into his hand, but when he looks back at Harry’s eyes there’s a lot more seriousness cemented on his face, a way that makes Harry’s stomach dip tightly, but keeping his face calm. “Will you do me the honor?” asks Niall, slight smile on his face.

“The honor of what?” Harry says, with a very good idea of what Niall’s asking but wanting to hear the words from Niall’s mouth at least once more.

“You know what,” Niall sighs, shaking his head.

“No, no. I don’t think so,” Harry says, failing to hide his smile this time.

“Bloody hell,  _fine_. Harry Styles, the world’s brightest human and shinning star –“ He stops when Harry frowns, chuckling softly before he starts up again, tone infectious. “ - will you do me the honor of staying with me in this until the end?”

_Until the end_ , Harry thinks, enjoying the choice of words.

And it’s because he can’t find the proper words that he resorts to a nod, only resuming when Niall meets his eyes, gentle and soft.

“I might,” Harry grins at Niall, happily, because he thinks that with all things considered, this is just about right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm on [tumblr](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi (or complain about the quality of my so-called storytelling).


End file.
